Evanescence
by Cerulean Pen
Summary: The unfathomable loyalty of a young dragon may be tested when such dragon's owner begins to fall short of normality, and visits into the forest become less frequent. Hiccup/Toothless.


Evanescence

Summary: The unfathomable loyalty of a young dragon may be tested when such dragon's owner begins to fall short of normality, and visits into the forest become less frequent. Hiccup/Toothless.

English Angst/Friendship Rated: K+ Chapters:1 Words: Hiccup & Toothless

**Toothless's POV**

There are dragons larger then I. Dragons that breathe fire of scorching temperature, spray scalding water, release deafening screeches, fly greater heights, but I have something that none of these have, better then a power, or flame. I have an owner, someone who protected me, even when everyone else tried to kill me; he saved me from destruction, losing a part of himself in the process. For that, I owe him my life, although everyone else says that he owes his life to me. I was only sacrificing myself to save him.

He walks through the forest in the mornings, his leather and metal foot squeaking slightly, leather-bound journal in one hand, ink pen in the other. I trot faithfully by his side, just in case someone pushes their luck against my master, I am there to protect him. I don't want to hurt anyone, he will stop me if I go too far: even though I would like to snap at that father of his for putting him down.

Mornings are the best, just the two of us, away from the training ring, walking through the serene forest, watching him take notes, or perhaps chasing a sunbeam across the forest floor. Being a dragon, I may not be graceful, but I am more graceful then my master, who is capable of tripping over flat surfaces.

So, when he goes down, arms flailing, I assume that his feet have moved faster then his mind, natural clumsiness overtaking him. Using my nose, I prod against his freckled cheek, tentatively licking his dark, shaggy hair, hoping he will get to his foot again. No answer. Journal still clutched in hand though, so I begin to roar, softly at first, then climbing louder and louder, until he wakes up.

"Good boy, Toothless," he murmurs, stroking my nose, as I purr, licking his cheek again, unleashing a small chuckle from my master. After we start walking, out of the corner of my eye, I notice his eyes; duller then usual, deadpan, like someone sucked the life and light out. I am concerned, striding closer to him, eyes open for any predator that could've done this to my master.

I wait patiently for my master to return the next morning, laying in my favorite spot in the forest, the clearing where I met him, lines in the dirt still visible from where I earned his trust. Hours pass by, I start to get hungry, until the blond that my master likes appears, holding a large net full of raw fish, my favorite food. As I begin to eat, she pets my nose, and I see that there are tears in her eyes.

"Hey there, Toothless," she whispers, hand soft against my scales, my tail thumping solidly on the ground. The tears are more prominent, so I lick her nose, hoping that the tears will disappear. She grins slightly, making me a bit happier, though I'm still waiting for my master, waiting for him to return.

This goes on for almost a week, pacing back and forth, hoping he will return, only to be visited by the blond who brings forth fish. She is nice company, but I prefer him to her, with his creaking prosthetic, journal crammed with pictures of me. A dragon can only amuse itself for so long, and I decide to trek into the village in search of my master, wondering where he could've gone.

The Vikings, as they're called, are busy at work, while dragons zoom overhead, the occasional fiery burst of flame appearing. No one seems to notice me, so I continue my journey, searching for my master's hut among the others, or even his dreaded father, who doubted dragons for so long. I roar softly, hoping to catch attention, trotting towards the hut that is his.

His father, with his red braided beard, is at the door, face hardening when he sees me approaching. "Toothless?" he asks, not necessarily as a question, but more of a statement, like he had forgotten my name. I roar once more, wanting to see my master, growing impatient at everyone's reluctance to tell me. When he doesn't move, I gather all of my energy, soaring upwards, over the hut, abrading through the back door.

My master is in his bed, asleep, nightclothes thin and blood-flecked, to my horror, licking away at one of the streaks, hoping he will awaken. Just like the morning in the forest, he doesn't move, only this time, his face his paler, freckles more prominent, even in the poor light. Scared, I begin to roar, which brought him back up the last time, roaring until my lungs begin to wear out, throat raw.

His father reenters the cabin, harshly grabbing the scruff of my neck, gently releasing his grip when he saw the worry in my eyes, reflecting his own tight face back at him. "Don't bother, Toothless," he murmurs, carefully letting me climb up onto the bed, snuggling next to my master, hoping to release some warmth into his body, "it's the Plague that's got him."

Plague. Strange word, but words cannot harm my master, with his determination, even after his foot was cut right off, with me as a witness. He was strong, he could defeat this strange word, this Plague, then he would return to the forest, come back in the mornings, stutter around the blond who brought forth fish. I purr softly, happy to have him back, my wings flapping back and forth, until I'm asleep.

In the morning, he is gone, gone from the bed, probably outside, waiting for me to follow so that we can go walk through the forest. Eager to see him up, I jump out of bed, sprinting outside, surprised when I don't see him, only his father and the blond, who has tears gliding down her cheeks. Why are they sad? My master is here again, they should not be sad.

My master is being hauled down into the Earth, while a stone is being spiked down in the soil before him, setting me off. Why are they trying to hurt him, why are they trying to hurt my master, why are they putting him in the ground when he is fine? I race forward, only for the blond to pull me back, hugging me close to her, tears slipping down my scales.

"It's okay, Toothless," she sobs dryly, seeming to be panting, "it's okay." I fight away from her, and race to him, and wait for them to release my master. And when they do, I can follow him, and fly him, and trot next to him in the forest.

I sit down by the stone and begin to wait.


End file.
